


Here there be Pirates

by sherlocks_skeletal_warlock



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Character Death, Hetalia, M/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:52:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocks_skeletal_warlock/pseuds/sherlocks_skeletal_warlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred Jones had always been told to look out for pirates. But when he and his little brother Matthew are captured by the crew of the 'Valiant Lucy', Alfred's thoughts on pirates change very rapidly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter in my Hetalia AU. Sorry it sort of just begins without warning.

Chapter 1  
Alfred and Matthew had always been told by their father to watch out for pirates when they went out to fish in their little boat. Often, the boys had shrugged it off, taken it as a joke and one of the tales that the old men told in the bar at the port. But it had always stuck with the older brother, even after their father had died when the boys were both in their late teens, the saying had stuck. Watch out for pirates. Alfred and Matthew only had each other anymore and their little boat which they lived upon. Fishermen by trade and good ones at that, the brothers were a good team.   
“Hey, Alfie?” asked Matthew, jolting the American from his reveries.  
“Yo, lil’ bro?” The two were further out to sea than they had ever been to fish.  
“What’s that in the distance?” the younger brother pointed into the horizon, causing Alfred to squint through his glasses.  
“I dunno… Looks like another ship.” The American shrugged and went to check that the anchor is down. Neither of them noticed the ship slowly approaching until they could see its flag. The Jolly Roger, or the pirate’s flag. Watch out for pirates. But by then, it was too late for the brothers to flee, their small boat having nothing like the power of the incoming vessel. Before they knew what was going on, Alfred and Matthew were gazing up at the huge ship, gulping. THUD. Matthew screamed. Alfred spun and came face to face with a giant of a man with flaming red hair and a hook for a hand, wearing a cocky smirk. THUD. Dry mouthed, the American pulled his little brother behind him as a brown haired man joined the red-head. Ears pierced all the way up the side, bare chested with a few scars adorning it, this man was just as terrifying as the first.  
“Looke what we have here,” purred the red-head, voice thickly laced with a Scottish accent.  
“Aww, Allie, leave them alone, they’re only kids,” remanded the second one.  
“Cap’n said breeng the crew. And the cargo, so call Feen and get heem to come and get the cargo. E’ll take these two to the Cap’n.” Alfred flinched as the cold metal of the red-head’s hook touched against his neck as the pirate dragged the brothers up the lowered gangplank to the waiting ship.  
“Cap’n!” hollered the Scotsman and Alfred caught a glimpse of a third pirate, also red-headed and scarred scurrying down the gangplank to help the brown-haired one. Then he was being shoved to his knees and he heard Matthew whimper beside him as he received the same treatment. Clack. Clack. Clack. The sound of boots on hard wood and then a hand in his hair, yanking his head up. Terrified blue eyes met one vibrant green; the other covered by a black eye patch but above and below the patch shone the white lines of scarring. Alfred couldn’t look away; the pirate’s striking eye was too bright, so green like a burning or bubbling vat of poison. He was intoxicated. But it was all over too soon; his hair was released and his head dropped. Then there was a voice, soft almost, with a lilting English accent.  
“Gilbert, take these two down to Roderich, they look like they need it.” The American’s heart crawled into his throat as he heard an odd but sinister laugh.  
“Ja, of course, Cap’n.” Another thickly accented voice, but Alfred couldn’t quite place where it came from. He felt another hand grasp his shirt and drag him up. From the soft squeak beside him, he assumed Matthew had the same. As they were dragged into the bellows of the ship, the older brother snuck a glance back at the pirate leading them down. White hair, red eyes and fearsome scar lacing across his cheek from his hairline to his jaw. Alfred was, to put it bluntly, fucking petrified.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope this lives up to your expectations! Hehe. Sorry it's still so short and fast paced, just want to get on with some real story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ciao~ Italian~ Hello.

The last thing Alfred had expected when they had been taken to the mysterious 'Roderich' was this. The albino pirate had taken the American and the Canadian deep into the ship and pushed them through a set of double doors. Eyes screwed shut, all Alfred could think was that they were going to die; he had failed their father; he hadn't looked after Matthew or watched out for pirates and now they were going to-  
"Ve! New friends!" At the sound of the over-excited, possibly Italian voice, his blue eyes flew open. A kitchen. They were in a kitchen. In the back corner, fiddling with a bag of sea rations was a rather respectable-looking pirate. He had no piercings or obvious scars and he wore black knee high boots over tan trousers and a tailed jacket over his white shirt, thin rimmed glasses balanced over violet eyes. He wore his hat at a gentle yet jaunty angle, a curl of chocolate brown hair escaping from under it. As Alfred's gaze moved, he saw a younger pirate, presumably the one who had spoken. A red bandana settled over his auburn hair and his eyes glittered with excitement. His left earlobe was pierced, a gold stud settled neatly there and his red striped shirt rode up a little, revealing his pierced belly button over his black trousers.   
"Ciao! Who's the new friends, Gil?" the boy enthused, obviously Italian.  
"Friends?" stuttered Matthew and Alfred quickly leapt in.  
"U-um, I'm Alfred Jones and this is my little brother, Matthew Williams."  
"Ciao! I'm Feliciano Vargas and this is Roderich Edelstein. We're the cooks, ve!" The man in the back corner gave a kindly smile and stepped forward.   
"The two of you look like you need some food..."  
"Roddy, darling," drawled the albino from behind the brothers, causing Alfred to start.  
"Yes, Gilbert?" The albino, Gilbert, sauntered over and pressed a kiss to the cook's cheek, causing him to blush, before he left. Seeming a little flustered, Roderich waved Alfred and Matthew into a seat.  
"Feli, have we got some salt crackers and dried herring?"  
"I'll look!" the Italian waltzed away and the cook perched on a stool in front of the two brothers.  
"I suppose you have questions?" Alfred nodded, arm lacing around his little brother. Matthew nestled close to him, sighing softly.  
"What's going on? Why are we here? What's going to happen to us?" The old pirate laughed softly.   
"Well, this is common. Welcome to the Valiant Lucy, ship of Captain Arthur Kirkland. Why are you here? Because we confiscated your vessel. Sorry, it's just the way things work. As for what's going to happened to the two of you, nothing. When we reach England and the port there, the Captain will let you go with enough money to return home or start a life in England. Or you can stay, like the rest of us." He spoke with no accent, although his English was over pronounced, as though he was fighting back an accent.  
"So," piped up Matthew quietly. "Why, may I ask, is there such a... spread of people here?"  
"Because we just stay," Roderich chuckled. "Feliciano over there is Italian, I'm Austrian. Gilbert, who you've met, is Prussian. The Captain and his family come from all over Britain. We hang on and choose this life. It's often better than our own." As Alfred contemplated this, there was an excitable 'Ve!' and Feliciano spun back in, crackers in one hand, fish in the other. Upon seeing the food, the American realised that he was actually rather hungry. With a smile, he took some of the crackers and dried fish, leaving the rest for his little brother. As he ate quietly, Alfred thought, 'well, I suppose I could get used to living as a pirate...'


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alfred gets his 'sea legs' and really meets the crew.

Chapter 3  
Alfred and Matthew spent the next 7 hours hiding in the kitchen with Roderich and Feliciano, learning of the rest of the crew. Other than the pirates they had already seen, there was Ludwig, who was Gilbert’s little brother and the navigator. He was stocky, unscarred and stubborn as an ox. Often found in a black vest top and black pants, the German navigator was always an intimidating presence but Feliciano assured them that he was a soft touch at heart. Roderich had been a true pirate once, Gilbert told them when he came back to affectionately annoy the cook, had his own ship and all but things happened and it all became too much for him. However, he hated not being at sea so when he met the young Captain and his rag-tag band, he offered to join them. Gilbert and Ludwig joined soon after, broke and hungry, looking for work. Feliciano had a more complex story. His brother and himself were born on Roderich’s ship and grew up there. When Roderich’s first mate mutinied, Lovino (the older of the Italian brothers) stood with the mutineers. Roderich was thrown off the ship and Feliciano followed him.  
“Who was the mutinous first mate?” asked Alfred and he watched as Roderich’s violet eyes hardened.  
“His name is Antonio Carriedo. He is the Captain of the ‘Bloody Isabella’, our rival ship.” Then, a rather flamboyant pirate waltzed in who was unknown to the American and the Canadian. He wore a foppish hat with a red feather embedded in fit; his overcoat was embroidered with pearls and his thigh-high boots shone with polish.  
“Ah, bonjour. Roderich, sweetheart, who are these fine-looking boys?”  
“Hands away, you lecher. This is Alfred and Matthew. They’re fishermen. Boys, this is Francis, our negotiator.” The Frenchman shot Matthew a disarmingly charming grin and Alfred felt the need to stand in front of his furiously blushing brother until Roderich rolled his eyes and shooed the other pirate away.  
“Francis isn’t so bad,” confided Feliciano as the Austrian tried to get said man out of the kitchen. “He just smiles and tries to get girls a lot…”  
“What about the Scottish dude?” asked Alfred and Gilbert replied from the box he was sat on.  
“Alistair? Eh, he’s a bit rough, bit rugged around ze edges, even for a pirate. Ze Kep’n’s Großer bruder. He’s a gute fighter zhough.”  
“And the Welshman and the Irishman are the Captain’s brothers too?” asked Matthew in his soft voice.  
“Ja, zhey vere adopted at birzh like Luddy und I. Alistair, Will, Arthur und Finnigan Kirkland.”  
“All good men,” confirmed Roderich as he walked back over. Alfred found his mind wandering back to the glimpse of the Captain he had seen. Black eye patch, rough sea-worn cheeks and one vivid acid green eye. He didn’t quite know what to think of the man but he fascinated him.  
“We should get you two something more suitable to wear…” mused Roderich as he eyed up the two brothers’ light sailor’s clothing. “Gilbert, is there some old clothes in the store cupboard?”  
“Um, ja, I zhink so. I’ll go get them.” The albino nodded and disappeared out of the room as Francis snuck back inside, however the flamboyant Frenchman merely perched quietly on a box. A few minutes later, the Prussian stumbled back in with an armful of clothes, dumping them on the floor.  
“Here. You can change in ze back.” Waving a hand, the albino showed the two boys a back room where they could get changed. After ten minutes, Alfred hoped out, looking very dashing in a blue shirt, long black jacket and blue stripy bandana. His black pants clung to his legs and Gilbert wolf-whistled playfully before kissing Roderich’s cheek as if to prove who he really liked. Then Matthew came out. The little Canadian seemed to have gotten confused because he had managed to put on a rather attractive white dress. The minute he stepped out, Francis squealed and began fussing over him, complimenting him in excitable French. Alfred could have died from embarrassment, especially when his little brother began flushing and accepting the compliments. When Matthew had struggled out of the lacy death-trap and remerged dressed in sharp black pants and a tight-fitting green and white striped shirt with a matching bandana, Alfred grinned and Francis swooned.  
“You both look excellent,” chuckled Roderich and Feliciano grinned.  
“Welcome to the crew, ve!”


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred wasn’t sure what he was doing in this part of the ship. Having been on it for over a week, he now knew where everything was and he even helped out with small things, although, Gilbert was teaching him how the ship worked. But he was down in the lowers decks now, near to the Captain’s quarters. It had been a spur of the moment thing to go check if the Captain’s bunk needed cleaning, as that was currently his job around the ship, but Arthur Kirkland was in there and now Alfred was pressing himself to the wall, trying to be silent. Not even knowing why he did, Alfred found the English pirate completely fascinating, maybe to the point of liking him. Over the last week, he had grown closer to Roderich who had taken a liking to the American and his little brother, looking after them in this rough world. His partner, the albino Prussian, had promised to help the newcomers get used to their new life and find a place on the ship. His little brother already had; he was now working as their lookout in the Crow’s nest. Alfred was almost jealous as to how quickly Matthew had settled into his new life; he had even found a lover in the guise of the tall, flamboyant Frenchman. A noise from Arthur’s cabin shocked Alfred from his musings and he peered around the door to look at the Captain who was stood in front of his mirror, fiddling with his eye patch. As he lifted that tattered, jet black material, Alfred almost gagged. The unseeing orb skittered around the Captain’s eye socket, looking blindly for something to focus on, finally settling on the clear glass before it. Taking a steadying breath, the American took a proper look at the sightless eye; it was crystal white with a small, light grey pupil. Hundreds of tiny red lines of scarring were plastered across the skin around the eye, like some sick crystal ball that could only predict pain. Arthur’s face fell as he gazed silently with his good eye, raising a hand to gently, almost without touching, caress the scars. Alfred shivered a little, wanting to hug the young pirate Captain; honestly, the Englishman couldn’t have been more than twenty-three and yet, he seemed so much older. With a cold wash of realisation, the American thought, ‘he’s been broken. More than once.’ And that hurt.  
“You know, it is considered bad manners to hover outside someone’s door and eavesdrop on them.” His smooth, gentle English voice made Alfred jump and automatically draw back before he realised that Arthur already knew he was there.  
“S-Sorry, C-Cap’n, I was just c-cleaning. I’ll just-” Alfred babbled, gesturing wildly.  
“Please, come in.” Arthur cut him off and gestured inside. Without thinking, or stopping to question it, the American entered, gazing around at the room. It was mildly luxurious, with a small bed covered in animal furs; there was a desk in the corner with a map laid across it, various instruments littered around it.  
“How are you liking the ‘Valiant Lucy’, Alfred Jones?” came the Captain’s smooth voice from behind him and the young pirate turned to see the scarred Englishman sat on the bed, both eyes, sightless or not, fixed on him.  
“It… It’s a beautiful ship. I like Rod and Feli and Gil… They’re all lovely and kinda accepted me and my little bro right away. And it… it’s good for us. A new life.”  
“A lot of the people here are the same. Dear old Roderich was so broken after that back-stabber Antonio took everything from him, with little Feliciano following him like a lost puppy. It is only natural that they craved the seas…”  
“Gilbert told us…” mused Alfred. “Roderich seemed so upset when he mentioned Antonio…” Arthur nodded and patted the bed beside him, causing Alfred to blink and blush faintly as he sat beside him.  
“Roderich cared a great deal about Antonio’s well-being on the ship. They were best friends. And when Antonio led the mutiny… It broke Rod’s heart. But I’m sure him or Gilbert are much better people to discuss that with.” The American nodded and there was a period of silence before Alfred said,  
“Cap’n?”  
“Please, call me Arthur. Yes?” Alfred paused, flushed deeply at the request but replied,  
“O-Okay, Arthur… Um, I was just wondering… your eye…” The captain stiffened and immediately the pirate knew he had touched an unapproachable subject. There was a long silence. It made Alfred feel positively sick and just as he opened his mouth to apologise, Arthur said,  
“Two years ago. It was… maybe a year after I had met Roderich and Feliciano, before Gilbert and Ludwig. We ran into the ‘Bloody Isabella’. Now, originally, that ship had been called the ‘Maria-Theresa’ when Roderich had sailed it, but no, Antonio would not have her called that. Roderich was furious. It was understandable really; the ‘Maria-Theresa’ had been his pride and joy and was a truly beautiful ship. And so, we flag her down and Roderich draws himself up and he is pissing himself angry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautifully terrifying thing…” Here, the Englishman just paused, shaking his head a little. “He asks for permission, as politely as possible, despite the fact that he looks like some sort of avenging angel, to go confront Antonio. I say yes. He storms up the gangplank, violet eyes aflame and he just hollers, ‘ANTONIO CARRIEDO, YOU MUNTINOUS BASTARD SON OF A BITCH! GET YOUR GOOD-FOR-NOTHING ASS OUT HERE NOW.’ And Antonio has the nerve to show his face. Roderich has this tiny little rapier of a sword but well…” Again, Arthur trailed off but Alfred was just marvelling at the way the Englishman had retained all the information from so long ago; he could barely remember what he said to his brother this morning. “He knows how to use that thing. So, Antonio comes out with this little first mate of his, who is Feliciano’s older brother, Lovino. Lovino is probably around eighteen and little Feli is just sixteen. So, Finnigan is stood next to Feliciano in case he does something stupid as Roderich stares down Antonio. I swear, it was so silent, you could hear the dolphins squeaking under the waves and then Lovino says, ‘What do you want, Prissy Bastard?’ and all hell breaks loose.” Arthur gestured as he spoke, his good eye glittering with memories. “Feliciano goes for him. I mean full on goes for him and Antonio moves to defend him but Roderich is faster and he cuts off Antonio’s finger with his sword. So naturally, Antonio calls for his crew to attack, which mean I declare my crew to attack and it becomes a full on battle. So, I’m facing down the raider, who is this huge and frankly terrifying, pick-axe wielding Russian and I cut him with my sabre. He screams and this Chinese guy pulls out a hand pistol and shoots. The bullet hit my eye… I pass out and wake up in my room, with Alistair watching over me. They’d managed to save me but I was out for days. And I lost my eye. Thus, the rivalry of the ‘Valiant Lucy’ and the ‘Bloody Isabella’ began.”  
“Wow…” Alfred sighed, almost dreamily. “And what happened to Antonio? How did that end between him and Roderich?” The American could have sworn that the look on the Englishman’s face was positively wicked.  
“Oh, you see, Antonio Carriedo is now referred to as the dreimal gebissene Kapitän. Which is German for the thrice bitten Captain, because not only did Roderich remove the third finger on his left hand, he also took his right ear and his left leg.” The young pirate couldn’t help but grin at the Captain’s sly tone and as he turned to look at him, Alfred found himself once again captured in the other’s mismatched eyes. One, grey and scarred but crystalline like a rough diamond; the other so green, it would have made an emerald feel ashamed of itself. Silence fell as one green eye met two cobalt ones. Time stopped. Or at least Alfred felt like it had. All this week, ever since he had met him, he had wanted to get to know the mysterious Captain and now he was sat in his room, talking of old stories and he didn’t know what to say, what to do-.  
Soft lips were being gently pressed to his own. Arthur Kirkland was kissing him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we discover more about the crew and Alfred walks on air. Oh, and land ahoy!

Chapter 5  
Alfred Jones felt like he was floating. He bounded into the kitchen where Roderich was preparing this evening’s supper with a grin as wide as the sea itself.  
“Someone looks happy?” chuckled the Austrian, turning to him with a dry grin and Alfred nodded.  
“Artie was talking with me. He told me about the, um, is it dreimal gebissene Kapitän?” The older pirate’s eyebrow rose at ‘Artie’ and he chortled at the rest.  
“Ah, the old tale of our encounter. Ja, Antonio still regrets that. It’s rather amusing.”  
“HALLO! RODDY!” A shout announced Gilbert’s arrival as he burst into the room, trailed by Ludwig and Feliciano. The albino’s eyes fixed on Alfred and he shot him a smirk.  
“Hallo auch zu dein, klein Freibeuter,” smirked the Prussian. “I heard someone was kissing the Kapitan!” Every set of eyes settled on Alfred who went bright red and nodded minutely. There was a short pause before Gilbert cracked up, giving his short manic laughter.  
“Keseseseseses! I knew it!”  
“Oh, bruder, leave the boy alone,” chided Ludwig, wrapping an arm around Feliciano. Alfred faintly remembered Roderich telling him that the German and the Italian were head over heels in love. It was such an odd thought; they made such an odd couple. The little, hyperactive Italian and the tall, stern German but Alfred couldn’t help but think that their infatuation was cute. Gilbert was talking as he slid over to Roderich, lacing his arm around the Austrian’s waist.  
“So, I was talking to Alistair up top and then die Kapitan came bouncing out, actually grinning. I think that the first time I’ve ever seen him smile. So Alistair asks him what’s going on and he just says, ‘Alfie is a great kisser’ and bounds off to talk to Finnigan!” Alfred didn’t think he could get anymore red but by the giggles from Feliciano, he had managed it.  
“He likes you, Al!” squealed the Italian and Roderich gave a soft chuckle, leant into Gilbert’s embrace.  
“Well, I, for one, am glad that Alfred is settling in so well. It is good to see,” said Roderich with a small smile. Alfred flushed lightly at the words. He liked the old pirate and could easily see him as the father figure to the crew. He wondered if the respectable Austrian had ever been a father himself but was too afraid to ask. Gilbert toyed absently with Roderich’s hair, causing him to grumble half-heartedly.  
“Hey, Gilbert, stop it…”  
“Nein… It’s so soft.” He continued to play with Roderich’s odd curl and the ex-Captain gave up, just leaning into his touch. The kitchen door swung open and Will sauntered in, grinning as usual.  
“Afternoon, my friends. How’s things going?”  
“Gute, gute. Are we still heading for Mediterranean seas?” asked Ludwig, a soft frown on his young face. Will nodded.  
“Cap’n’s orders and you know how stubborn he gets.” Roderich sighed.  
“I just think he could do with leaving Antonio alone. It would do wonders for my stress levels if I was just allowed to forget that traitorous bastard, but, nein, Arthur is insistent on going back that way, where we are certain to run into him.”  
“Hey, that’s Artie’s way and you know it, Rod. He’s stubborn and never one to let a grudge go and Antonio did take his eye…” replied the Welshman with a weary sigh.  
“Ach, I know. Still…” Feliciano chipped in softly,  
“I don’t want to see Lovino, ve. He betrayed us and I hate him and I don’t ever want to see him.” Alfred gawped at the little Italian. Feliciano was never cruel or harsh like that and about his own brother… It was a bit of a surprise and by the incredulous looks from the other pirates, even his boyfriend, Ludwig, it wasn’t often he was like this.  
“Zhat’s… zhat’s a little harsh, don’t you zhink, Felici?” mumbled Ludwig and you would have had to have been deaf not to hear the concern in the German’s voice.  
“Well, he was very harsh to us…” pointed out Feliciano and Ludwig nodded, wrapping his lover up into his arms.  
“I knov. Try not to zhink of it, mm?” The Italian nodded, settling back into his arms. Alfred found himself thinking of the pirates in a different light.  
Will’s scarred back covered by his dragon tattoo, like he had been burnt.  
The way Roderich always wore gloves.  
The scar down Gilbert’s face, from his temple to his chin.  
The inclined limp Feliciano walked with.  
The way Ludwig sat, straight backed but his back never touched the chair.  
Alistair’s impressive collection of scars.  
The scars over Finnigan’s chest as though he had been whipped.  
The white bullet mark on Francis’s shoulder.  
Arthur’s eye.  
All these things were never spoken about, but they always made Alfred think. Although, never as much as he did now, contemplating how many times this mismatched crew had suffered for who they were and what they did. And they had been so kind to the American and his brother. He didn’t have any words. Luckily, he was saved from speaking by a holler of,  
“Land! Land ahoy!” from Matthew in the crow’s nest. It always surprised Alfred as to how loud his brother could shout when he wanted to. And then, everything was a flurry of activity as the pirates set the ship ready to dock at the port.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo auch zu dein, klein Freibeuter - hello to you also, small pirate (I think, my German is limited, please correct me if I'm wrong!)  
> Kapitan - Captain


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been so long! I promise I will upload the last 2 chapters. Hope you guys enjoy!

Alfred had never been to what was known as a pirate’s port. There were a few dotted on islands across the seas and this was one of many places where rum and supplies were cheap and fights broke out at nothing. And women were plentiful, if that was what you fancied, not that many of Arthur’s odd jumble of a crew glanced twice at the leering faces, looking for a man’s company. Well, Alistair did but he was quickly pulled away by Will with a shake of his head. Arthur appeared at his side, frowning at the chaos.  
“Stay close, Alfred. Tell your brother to stick to Francis.” Immediately, the American nodded, a little lost in this situation so he merely turned to Matthew and relayed Arthur’s message before returning to the Captain’s side. The Englishman surveyed his crew then spoke,  
“Roderich, Gilbert, we need supplies. Take Feliciano and Ludwig with you. Will, Finnigan, Alistair, make sure the ship is repaired and equipped to get us to the Mediterranean. Francis, negotiate ourselves some maps and you know. Take Matthew and don’t let him out of your sight. I have a contact to see. We will all meet back here by sunrise. Find your own lodgings or stay in the ship. Off you go.” Alfred watched as the crew split into their teams and disappeared into the port. Staying close to Arthur, he navigated his way through the heaving crowd. The Englishman walked with purpose, keeping a firm grip on Alfred’s hand so as not to lose him. After a while of ducking and weaving, the two made it to a small dark, back alley tavern and Arthur pulled his Captain’s hat low over his head.  
“Keep your head down, don’t say anything, don’t draw attention to yourself,” the Englishman muttered as he pushed open the door, leading Alfred inside. It was dingy, with a few chairs and tables. There were only four or five people in there, including the brute of a barman. Without hesitation, Arthur walked to the bar and asked in a low voice,  
“Is he in?”  
“Depends.”  
“Tell him the Englishman’s here. Lucy’s leader.” The brute seemed happy with the answer and waved the two through a curtain into the back. Nervously, Alfred followed the Captain through the curtain into a little back room where there sat a man wearing an odd hat, face mask and veil. The attire was so odd that Alfred nearly stared… until he noticed the two ominous looking guard-like men behind him. He gulped. Arthur sat before the masked man and tilted his hat back.  
“Englishman. It’s-a been a while,” he purred. His accent was thick and lightly sing-song, mangling the vowels.  
“Yes. I need to know if they have increased patrols by Spain. I know you know.”  
“I do a-know, but the question is-a… Who is this-a beautiful boy you have? I would-a have him for my own.” Ice filled Alfred’s veins when he realised that the man was talking about him. Arthur barely batted an eyelid.  
“A boy I picked up here. Thought he would make an interesting boot-licker.” The masked man snorted a laugh and returned his attention to the Captain.  
“You always had an odd taste, Englishman. Patrols… around-a Spain? Doubled, I say-a. Looking for the dreimal gebissen Kapitan, no doubt-a.” Arthur rolled his eyes.  
“They’ll never find him. Only pirates find pirates.” Alfred’s stomach was still turning backflips as the guards not so subtly eyed him up. Besides, this was not the Arthur he knew. This wasn’t the Captain with the stories and the laughing eyes and the soft lips behind the gentlemanly demeanour. This was the pirate, calm, cold and acidic as the green of his eyes.  
“I know-a, Englishman. But all the same, patrols are worse-a. Be careful.”  
“Thank you.” Arthur carelessly tossed over a jingling pouch but the masked man looked up to Alfred again, turning his stomach to knots.   
“Keep it. For the night-a with your boot-licker.” The Captain laughed, cold and mirthless, causing the American to shiver, fear painted across his face.  
“Get your own.” There was no hint of protectiveness in his voice as he stood, leaving the purse and moved away. “Pleasure, as always.”  
“Mmm. Thank-a you, Englishman.” Alfred hurried after Arthur as the Englishman left and disappeared out of the tavern. As soon as they were outside, his arms were tight around the American’s waist.  
“I’m sorry you saw that. I needed the information and Sadiq is always reliable, even if he is… unsavoury. I’m so sorry, Alfred.” Arthur’s voice was soft again, in his ear, whispering and gentle. Slowly, the younger pirate relaxed into his hold, shivering.  
“I-It’s okay. I just… I had never seen you like that.”  
“And you shan’t again. Come along now, we need to move from here.” And with that, they were off again, ducking and weaving through the crowd.  
Soon enough, they reached a much nicer tavern and Arthur led him inside, sighing heavily. But the sight that met them was far from nice. Roderich, Ludwig and Feliciano stood in the centre of the place, surrounded by overturned tables and chairs, weapons drawn. Gilbert was unconscious on the floor behind them and facing them towered two men, one holding an axe, the other a doubled headed spear. Roderich’s eyes were as hard as stone, his rapier flashing as he growled,  
“Back off. Now.” Ludwig stood very still and very close to Feliciano and scowled, every muscle in his body tense, like a tiger ready to spring, as the Italian gripped his pistol with steady hands. Arthur fought through the growing crowd, gripping the hilt of his broadsword in its scabbard. He stopped in front of them and Alfred could see Roderich visibly relax.  
“Kapitan…”  
“Take Gilbert back to the ship, Alfred, go with him. Now.” Arthur’s tone left no room for argument and Alfred leapt to obey. He helped Roderich pick up the unconscious Prussian.  
“Felici, go with them, bitte,” murmured Ludwig, not taking his eyes off the men opposite. After a moment’s hesitation, the Italian scampered after them. Roderich carried Gilbert out, back towards the docks.  
“Will they be okay?” worried Alfred.   
“Arthur knows what he is doing and Ludwig is one of the fastest broadsword fighters around. They’ll be fine. We need to get Gilbert to Finnigan and make sure they are safe.” Roderich’s voice was a level as ever, cool and collected but Alfred saw the nervous fear in the old pirates eyes every time he looked at Gilbert. They reached the ‘Valiant Lucy’ quickly, where Finnigan stood, helping Will transfer a piece of wood to repair the hull.  
“Finnigan!” called Roderich and the Irishman turned, jumping at the sight of Gilbert.  
“What happened?” growled the Welshman, dropping the wood to go help them.  
“Someone took offence to him. Hit him over the back of the head with a chair… he… he, uh… he didn’t get back up.” Roderich’s voice trailed off as Will carried Gilbert inside and Feliciano hugged him tightly. After Will laid Gilbert down in the little medical room, Finnigan moved to check his head, his pulse and his eyes, frowning. Roderich, stood in the doorway, was completely tense.  
“He’ll live but he’ll be dizzy and weak for a week, maybe more. Roderich-”  
“I’ll look after him. Feliciano, can you cook?”  
“Of course, Roderich, ve. Stay with him.”  
“Come on, Alfie, we should get back to the Cap’n,” the Welshman said gruffly, pulling the American away and heading back into the port. “Which tavern are they in?”  
“Uh, this way…” Alfred couldn’t remember what it was called but he knew the way. They ran. But by the time they reached the tavern, Arthur and Ludwig had emerged, blood spattered. Alfred nearly fainted in fright that they had been hurt but Arthur spotted him and hurried over.  
“Are you okay?!” squeaked the American and the Captain nodded.  
“Let’s get back to the ship. Will, go find Francis and Matthew. You know where he’ll be.” With a nod, the Captain’s older brother ran off and Arthur turned back to the young pirate. “Come on Alfie. Ludwig, let’s go.” They hurried back to the ship for the night; Alfred had had quite enough adventure for one day.


	7. Chapter 7

Alfred was restless. It had been nigh three weeks since they had left the port and they had not seen more than a glitter of land in the distance since. All there was to see for miles was water. At first it had been beautiful, but now it just seemed endless and dull. He wanted to walk beneath tress again, to smell the blossoms in the spring, to introduce Arthur to his home…

He was the one thing that Alfred was really still enjoying this life for. His wonderful Arthur who smiled in the evenings and touched his cheek lightly. Arthur who kissed with such passion and such love. Arthur whose good eye lit up playfully whenever Alfred was around. And sometimes Alfred wondered why it had been so easy to fall in love with the charming, scarred captain of a pirate ship. And then he realises why; Arthur had brought life back to his routine world. He had returned the breath of adventure and excitement into the young American. But then, he thought, it isn’t just Arthur that makes the ‘Valiant Lucy’ so special, so easy to call home. It’s everyone. It’s all the crew with their gentle but wacky ways; it’s the way he was accepted into their little family so simply. And Alfred could not be happier.

He was dragged from these reveries but a call from the Crow’s nest. There’s another ship on the horizon. He looked up at Arthur who was stood at the helm, telescope to his good eye. He watched as the Captain’s jaw set in a grim line and he called,

“It’s the ‘Bloody Isabella!’ Man the weapons!” And Alfred skittered down into the ship, calling for Roderich and Feliciano, for Gilbert who has recovered from his beating in the port. Within the short time it took for the two ships to come within clear sight of each other, the whole crew was armed and ready for a fight. Alfred gripped the dagger he had been given by Arthur and stood loyally at his Captain’s side. Glancing down at the rest of the crew who had gathered on the deck, he shivered. Roderich’s eyes were as cold as ice and he held his rapier with an ease that made Alfred gulp. Stood beside him was Gilbert, wielding his huge curved sabre; Ludwig next, broadsword in hand. Then there was little Feliciano, wearing an expression that Alfred had never seen anything close to before on the boy’s face: Something akin to hatred as he gripped his pistol. Alfred was scared. He was not only scared, but terrified. The ships drew closer together and he looked around at the men he had come to think of as his family. It was easy see how he fit in here, the grinning boy, ready to lend a hand, to take a bullet, to free a captive amidst these men with their bad and bitter pasts. Hated and haunted but undeniably, unbelievingly close. And now they were all sailing into a death trap, weapons bristling, eyes sharpening, hearts hardening. And for the first time in his nineteen years, Alfred was afraid to die. Afraid to lose his crew, to lose Matthew, to lose _Arthur._ And the fear choked him until Roderich laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I see the fear in your eyes, Alfred. But don’t worry. Francis will protect Matthew and Arthur will protect you.”

“But who will protect Arthur?” whimpering Alfred. Smiling wryly, Roderich merely pointed to a certain silver haired albino who held his sabre like he’d been born with it. And the American’s doubts slowly began to fade. After all, they were pirates and they had fought many battles before. Raising his eyes, to the sea, he saw the ‘Bloody Isabella’ approaching at some speed and felt Roderich’s hand drop from his shoulder, back to his rapier. He heard him mutter softly.

“Let’s see then, old friend. You said I’d do anything to protect my crew. Let me show you just how far I’ll go to protect this rag-tag family I have. You tried to break me, Antonio, but you haven’t broken me yet. You haven’t broken me yet, old friend.”

And another chill chased down Alfred’s spine as he looked at Roderich. Not broken yet…. He couldn’t imagine life without the old Austrian pirate. He couldn’t picture it. It was too much, this was too much. By god, they were going to die, they were all going to die and-.

Arthur touched his shoulder.

“Breathe Alfred. This is not where we meet our end.”

“How can you be so sure?” Arthur just smiled.

“Because I have you and you have me. We shall not fall.”

And Alfred truly believed that as the ships drew within firing distance.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a huge battle and it all ends...

Alfred had never been in as much as a bar fight before and now here he stood, amidst carnage as the crew of the ‘Bloody Isabella’ began to try and board the ‘Valiant Lucy’ and vice versa. Arthur turned from the scene and grabbed Alfred’s arm.

“Get on that ship. Go below decks and take anything of use. Stay there until I come and get you. Go!” With an agonised expression, Arthur placed a grappling hook in Alfred’s hand. Gulping, the American threw it, watching as the jagged hook caught and splintered the wood of the ‘Bloody Isabella.’ He leapt off the side of the ship, scuttling up the rope like a squirrel. The crew of the ‘Bloody Isabella’ were all fighting with Alistair, Will, Gilbert and Ludwig who had managed to get across and no one noticed the little American as he clambered on to the deck. Quickly, Alfred ran for the hatch leading to the lower decks, ducking as bullets went flying. He scarpered down into the darkness, until he saw one of the lamps lit. Hurrying towards it, he caught sight of a small boy, younger than him, cowering behind a set of ropes. The boy had caramel coloured tousled hair, wide eyes that seemed almost lilac and made him look like a bush baby and soft cheeks. One of his eyes was blackened and his jaw was badly bruised.  The American paused and tried to smile kindly. Slowly, Alfred held a hand out to the mousy haired creature that only trembled harder.

“Hey, hey… I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay, I’d never hurt you.” His softly spoken words of peace seemed to soothe the boy and he snuck out a little. “What’s your name?”

“Ra-Raivis…” came the stammered reply.

“Hey, Raivis… Now, you don’t look very happy here. Would you like to help me get some cargo and then get out of here?” The boy nodded and skittered out.

“B-But, but we ha-have to s-s-save my brothers,” whispered Raivis.                                                   

“Okay, we can do that. Do you know where they are?”

“I-In the cannon deck. W-with, with, him.” The boy almost spat out the last word and Alfred frowned.

“Him?”

“Iv-Ivan. He beats us and m-makes us work and, and I don’t want to be here, I want to go home, I want to go home!” Blinking, Alfred gently rubbed the poor boy’s shoulder. He seemed to have been through a lot, no wonder he wanted to go home.

“Okay, okay, I’ll make sure you get home, don’t worry. Now, how about, you show me to the cannon deck and we’ll save your brothers, okay?” With a sniffle, the boy nodded, gesturing him to follow him. As Alfred followed Raivis through the belly of the ship, he could hear the continued sounds of cannon fire and steel on steel from the battle above. He sincerely hoped his crew was alright and that everyone was still alive. He wasn’t sure he could imagine a time when there wasn’t his little ragtag family to make him smile and keep him strong. And then he looked at this mousy haired boy who he had found hiding in the bowels of their rival ship. Where could he fit in? Honestly, Alfred could see him becoming close friends with his little brother. Matthew always had a soft spot for lost causes, whereas Alfred didn’t. And so, the American asked himself, why was he doing this? Because this boy needed his help? Because he had changed in his time on the Valiant Lucy? But then, he realised, he was finally becoming what he had always wanted to be to someone: a hero. Alfred grinned. He liked the sound of being someone’s hero, especially someone who needed his help as much as this boy clearly did. And so, as they entered the cannon deck silently, Alfred was confident. And then he saw Ivan. A great hulking beast of a man, towering over Alfred and Raivis, Ivan was smiling coldly at two boys with a sabre in one hand. He wore sleeveless top, revealing a long scar across his arm and several tattoos, but his face would have seemed babyish and innocent, were it not drawn into a cruel smirk of almost sadism.  One of the boys had short cropped blonde hair, fearful wide blue eyes, covered by a pair of cracked spectacles, and an angular face, long and sharp with a small scar over his lip; the other had shoulder length brown hair, dragged back into a messy ponytail, green eyes narrowed in pain as he winced, lugging a heavy cannon ball to the cannon that the other boy was filling with dangerous gunpowder. Raivis and Alfred ducked behind the nearest cannon and Alfred gripped his dagger before whispering.

“Raivis, do you think you can cause a distraction?” But before the boy could answer, the green-eyed man dropped the cannon ball and the wood around his feet splintered and cracked, but held… only just. Immediately, Ivan started yelling in Russian and pulled the boy to him. Alfred watched with horrified eyes as he dragged the tip of his curved sabre down the brunette’s chest, cutting through the shirt he was wearing and creating a long line of blood. The brunette screamed. But this was what Alfred had needed. As fast as he could, the American threw himself at Ivan, tackling him to the ground with sheer power. His head spun, his heart raced with adrenaline as he held his knife to the throat of the Russian. But, Ivan caught on and grabbed the dagger, trying to force it away from him. In retaliation, Alfred kneed him in the groin, causing him to howl in pain and then the American brought his dagger down, right into the Russian’s jugular. With a scream, Ivan writhed slightly, blood gushing from the wound but the light was already fading from his violet eyes. Soon, he fell still, dead. Slowly, Alfred got to his feet, covered in blood, shaking. There was a very long pause in which the three boys who were now clinging to each other and Alfred stared at each other. Then the brunette stood and held his shaking hand out.

“Toris. Th-thank you.” Alfred slowly shook his hand, blinking.

“Alfred. Y-you’re… you’re welcome. We… We gotta get out of here.” Quickly, the four leapt up the stairs to the deck and into the chaos above. There was cannon fire and the sound of swords clashing but Alfred could only dart away from the action. The blonde boy gently tapped Alfred on the shoulder and murmured.

“Behind the store barrels. Quickly.” Alfred nodded and darted behind the barrels, followed by the three boys. The American looked questioningly at him and he whispered softly,

“Eduard. I’m Eduard.” The American nodded and smiled faintly, peering over the barrels. He saw Roderich fighting with the short helmsman who wielded a samurai sword easily. Alfred’s gut lurched as the dark haired Japanese man nicked Roderich’s arm, causing the old pirate to grit his teeth and hiss in pain. Alfred’s eyes swung from Roderich, to Arthur who was locked in violent combat with a dark haired pirate, wearing the Captain’s hat. That must be Antonio, thought the American as Arthur lunged forward towards the pirate. But before Alfred could leap up to protect his dearest lover and Captain, an angry little Italian appeared by his side.

“Bastards! What are you doing abandoning your crew?!” This must be Feliciano’s older brother, Lovino, he thought, as Toris, Eduard, Raivis cowered at his angry voice. As Toris began to mumble an apology, Alfred stood and snarled,

“Leave them! They never asked for this! They just want to go home!”

“And what do you know of it, jerk bastard? Get back to your own ship before I rip your st-” But the Italian never finished his sentence. There was the bang of a pistol and Lovino toppled over the side of the ship. Alfred spun round, looking for the culprit and saw Feliciano stood on the Valiant Lucy, clutching a pistol with shaking hands. Before he could anything, there was an agonised howl of,

“LOVINO!”

Antonio shoved Arthur to the floor and produced a sharp hilted dagger. Without hesitation, he threw the dagger and Alfred watched him horror as the dagger sunk into Feliciano’s chest.

“NO!”

“FELICI, NEIN!”

Ludwig’s voice. Arthur’s voice. Roderich’s voice. It felt like Alfred was watching a shipwreck in process as Ludwig shot Antonio in the head before fleeing to Feliciano’s side, with Roderich. At the loss of their Captain, the rest of the crew of the Bloody Isabella began to abandon the ship as Alfred ran over the lowered gang plank, with the three boys he saved in tow, to comfort his crew. Ludwig crouched by Feliciano’s side and gripped the Italian’s hand as the boy drew his final shuddering breaths.

“I-I’m, I’m scared, Luddy…”

“Shh, now, Felici, shh. Everyzhing is going to be okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

“St-stay, Luddy. Please…”

“I’ll never leave you. It’s going to be okay…”

“Lud-Ludwig…” Feliciano’s amber eyes fixed on Ludwig’s face and he smiled as the light drained from them. The stoic German navigator collapsed into tears, holding the boy’s limp body to his chest. Beside him, Roderich wept into Gilbert’s neck, shuddering. Slowly, the pirates all removed their hats and bowed their heads.

The funeral was a traditional one. Ludwig placed Feliciano’s limp body on to the wooden raft, made lovingly by Will and Alistair. There were no words spoken as the raft was released into the sea, gliding through the calm waves. The last journey of Feliciano Vargas. The crew watched until the raft floated from sight, into the blood red sunset. Slowly, Arthur stood before the crew.

“We will not forget him. He, he will live on in the memories of those who loved him forever. But, Feliciano would want us to move on. And so we will honour that promise.” He turned his eyes to the three brothers who stood, slightly away from the crew.

“Let’s get you three home.”

And so, the Valiant Lucy was once again alive with action, as the ship was turned towards the open ocean and the promise of adventure, with the comfort of home. And if you listen carefully, there was the soft whisper on the wind,

“Ah, yo, ho, ho… It’s a pirate’s life for me!”


End file.
